


Speakeasy

by MrsSaxon, OpenHeart_WickedMind



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: 1920s AU, 1920s suit porn, Alcohol, Bootlegging, Dancing, First Kiss, Fluff, Gangsters, Head over heels!Hannibal, Jazz - music, Jazz Age, M/M, Mama bear!Chiyoh, Murder Mystery, Romance, Southern Belle!Will, Speakeasies, first-time drinking, lots and lots of alcohol, missing person, teaser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5069812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsSaxon/pseuds/MrsSaxon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpenHeart_WickedMind/pseuds/OpenHeart_WickedMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the 1920s. Will Graham's cousin Abigail Hobbs has gone missing in the Big Apple. Consumed by worry, Will determines to track her down with the help of Private Investigator Jack Crawford and the unlikely, but surprisingly informative Dr. Hannibal Lecter. But all is not as it seems. And there is much that everyone keeps hidden. What will Will discover on this twisted chase? What secrets will be revealed? What passions ignited?</p><p>(Teaser sample for a potential longer fic and larger universe)</p><p>A first meeting. Jack insists that Will meet a particular friend of his, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, at a swanky club in downtown Manhattan. Will has his doubts about the meeting and the man. Will they defy his expectations?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speakeasy

The rusted sign read the words “Muskrat Farm”, it hung at an off-kilter angle that made Will feel as if it was ready to fall off at any minute. The rest of the building looked well used, the brick walls covered with pocks and chips from years of use. It may have held the name “Farm” but it didn’t resemble anything close to the miles of green land he was use to back home.

Will gave Jack a withering look, not inspired by the location’s appearance. “This is the club you’re taking me to? It looks like the party left years ago.”

Jack chuckled, “If we were advertising the club’s existence, we’d have no club to go to, would we?” He smirked and put his hand on a door that was boarded up but it swung open as soon as he pulled. Inside the bones of the old factory remained dusty and unused. The half-boarded up, broken windows lining the top of the large area cast eerie array of shadows across the floor. Will stuck close to the detective, half-inclined to believe he was being taken for a fool. He’d only hired the PI two days ago, who knew how trustworthy he really was?

Jack seemed to know where he was going, confidently leading them through the dusty production lines and meathooks, down a flight of stairs, and down the hall to a plain black door. Will noticed a police officer was standing post at the door and felt his heart race. Why would the police be here? Weren’t the cops in an all-out war with the speakeasies and the bootleggers who provided them with their booze?

Rather than coming after them the cop’s stance relaxed and he smiled. “Jack! Been awhile since I’ve seen you here.”

They stopped at the door and Jack shook the officer’s hand. “Work. Work. Work. Someone’s gotta put food on the table.”

The officer laughed, “Oh I’ll be sure to tell Bella you said that.”

“You better not.”

“Well, I won’t keep you waiting any longer. You enjoy yourself.”

The officer swung open the door and Will felt like he was stepping into a new world. A wave of sound hit him all at once; a crash of music, bass drum, snares, horns, and piano. He was surprised he hadn’t been able to hear the music throughout the factory. But there was a thrumming under his feet he noticed now, coming from the big string bass being plucked on the edge of the stage and the pounding of people’s feet on the dancefloor.

The sheer energy of the room assaulted Will’s every sense. He’d been to dances and parties before, but none of them were as free and unrestricted as this. His pupils dilated in the low light and every glimmer and reflection off of glasses and sequins seemed more intense for the contrast. The room was hot and the air itself seemed to vibrate from the stomping and whirling of people clustered in the center of the underground ballroom. In retrospect, Will was sure his parents could reliably inform him that this was the gate of hell and inside, the vestibule of purgatory.

Will stumbled after Jack, stunned at the fantasy that was the speakeasy underneath Muskrat Farms. A moment ago, he wouldn’t have believed this possible, that such a shabby display could harbor a small city of dancing and booze. And yet here he was, in an enormous, echoing cavern, its walls decorated with strings of electric lights, illuminating small, circular tables around the edges of the room. There was the faint smell of must and gritty damp to remind one of the subterranean nature of the environment and the walls were rough hewn, unvarnished. But with its size, its furnishings, and its clear intent to be a space to entertain, it could have been mistaken for any ballroom of the South.

The thrumming stage sat at the back of the room, bright lights set up to show off the performers on their raised dais. Along far wall was a shining brass bar installment where waiters bustled orders in and out with furious rapidity. And there were nearly as many people crowded around the bar as there were out dancing. All seemed to have a different cocktail varying in size and color. Will wondered if he’d get the courage to order one as they made their way through the crowd.

Will swallowed, mouth dry and feeling a little overwhelmed from the sudden sensory overload,“That officer-?”

“Steven? He’s retired,” Jack shouted over the crowd, leading Will to the tables by the stage, “went on the drink, left the force, kept the uniform. He’s a good decoy, isn’t he? Keeps the real ones off our backs.”

Jack snagged a table close to the stage and whistled loudly at the beautiful woman at the microphone. Her gaze shifted towards them the moment she heard it, her ruby lips took a moment to smile in recognition before continuing to sing. She was a vision, her white-silver dress glittering, dazzling Will’s eyes. Everyone here seemed to have dressed to match the feeling of room they stood in, wearing feathers and jewels, satin and wingtips. Even the waiters wore black tie attire and the ladies had matching maroon sequined tops with sinfully short shorts. Will leaned back in his chair, breathing deeply. What a place this was, what a vision.

“What can I get you two?” Will tilted his head as he looked up at the women standing by their table. Her voice was quite soft but managed to effortlessly cut through the noise that surrounded them.

“Scotch,” Jack ordered, “and a bottle of champagne, three glasses, please. Will, do you want anything?”

Will blinked, looking from Jack’s expectant face, to the cold, refined beauty of the woman with the soft voice. After a few seconds Will realized this woman spoke softly because she wanted to, not because she had to.

He shook his head, still flooded with sensation, “N-No… no, uh, nothing for me, thank you.” Her facial expression didn’t change as she left.

Jack leaned over, smiling, clearly sensing Will’s wonder at the world below the factory, “Some place, huh?”

Will thought back to the ‘parties’ at home. The men would lounge enjoying cigars and playing cards while the women gathered at one table to gossip. Sometimes there would be music, mostly classical. He’d tried to avoid these forced social interactions, opting instead to duck out of the party to walk around the grounds of the host’s estate.

If he was forced by his parents to stay Will would sit back in his chair and observe. It was easy to see the players of their white-gloved war just by the way the viewed each other over the rim of their tea cups. At a younger age, he might make up fantastic stories about the guests, which he’d only tried to relate to his parents once. He could still feel the sting of his father’s belt across his backside. The line between fantasy and lies was not one his parents appreciated. Neither did they appreciate any implications that their son had witnessed impropriety and, rather than confront an esteemed family member, they chose to teach their son the penalty of snitching.

Aside from being forced to socialize, the thing he hated most about the gatherings back home was they were so benign. It was easy to doze off and wake up an hour later not to have missed anything other than the last cucumber sandwich.

In this club, however, boredom was an impossibility. The couples on the dancefloor danced pressed together, whispering in each other’s ears. Their hands wandered and Will noted the lack of wedding bands on the participants. Back home people would’ve died right there amongst the azalea bushes if someone had even hinted that a couple was acting this way.

The band played an upbeat Jazz number and Bella, presumably, sang, entrancing the numerous nightclub attendees on the dancefloor. Booze flowed freely, many tables toasting with enough libations that made Will’s head ache just looking at them. A handful of beautiful in different outfits from the waitstaff zipped from one table to the next holding large boxes in front of them filled with snacks, cigarettes, and of course, more liquor. This was pretty much everything the crowd back home abhorred. The mere sight of it would’ve sent them all running to church praying for the people’s souls. Will felt like he’d should be ashamed just to be in a place like this but he loved the atmosphere too much to even think of leaving. It made him feel alive.

“It’s nothing like home.” Will replied with a steady voice. He did like Jack but there wasn’t any reason to share too much of his past with him. He’d come to town on a mission and getting too personal would just muddy the waters.

A dainty hand placed a glass of water in front of him. He looked up to see the same woman as before placing the champagne glasses at the table and uncorking the champagne. He noted that she wasn’t in the same outfit as the other girls, a simple black sequined dress tastefully cut to show off her petite figure.

“Chiyoh, my scotch?”

She gave Jack the same restrained smile she’d give him before. “All good things to those who wait.”

The glass of scotch appeared in her left hand as she put the open bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice next to Jack. Will took his water in hand and sipped while he turned back to the crowd. He could hear Jack and Chiyoh talking beside him.

“Could you tell Dr. Lecter that Jack’s here to see him?”

“Of course.”

The music stopped as Bella told the crowd she was going to take a break. The crowd on the dancefloor thinned out and he used the opportunity to look at the other tables across the floor. Will noted the different people with varied amount of amusement until his eyes stopped at a tall figure dressed in a white suit with black pinstripes. His hair was brown but had the sheen of silver in it that only grey hair could provide. Will admired that this man hadn’t tried to disguise it using one of the ghastly dies out on the market.

The gentleman had one hand in his side pocket while the other held his drink. The people he spoke to looked very animated but Will could tell the man wasn’t enjoying the conversation. To anyone else looking the man would’ve seemed engaged and polite but Will could tell there was a detachment there, something he’d done frequently back home. There was a calm power to his stance that said no matter what would happen next, he’d be ready for it.

Will could hear his mother’s voice in the back of his head nagging him not to stare but he couldn’t help it. He was captivated by the other man, not just his looks, but the presence he had in the crowd. The stranger’s head tilted just slightly and Will could tell that he’d sensed his eyes. As the other man slowly turned his head in Will’s direction the shy Southern personality that had been bred into him demanded he look away. But he wouldn’t, something inside of him told him this was a test and it was a test he was going to pass. If he wanted to be successful in his endeavor he needed to let go of some of the timid nature he’d had in the past and jump headfirst into this rowdy underground world.

The music drifting through the air, dancers twirling their beaded skirts, Jack’s polite attempt at conversation; they all froze in time when the other man met his eyes. It took the span of several heartbeats for the world to resume its rightful pace. By that time, Chiyoh had approached the same man that had grabbed his attention. His mind clicked in Jack’s request to Chiyoh from earlier.

“That’s Hannibal Lecter?” Will said absently as he took another sip of water, suddenly feeling parched. Earlier that day Jack had suggested that they reach out to the well connected Mr. Lecter for assistance.

“ _Doctor_ Lecter,” Jack emphasized, “He’s worked hard for that title and he expects people to call him that. He’s a powerful man who has his hands  in a lot of pockets, including the Vergers, the owners of this club. Rumor has it he had something to do with the transfer of this club to the new owners. Rumor mind you - a rumor that should stay between us.”

“Absolutely,” Will hadn’t turned away as he watched Chiyoh talk to Dr. Lecter. He turned back and looked directly at Will with a smile that only showed in his eyes. The Doctor said something Will assumed was an excuse to get away from the people around him and started to walk the outskirts of the dance floor towards Will. Locked into the Doctor’s gaze he felt like a rabbit standing alone in an empty field as a predator stalked towards it. He’d never felt this way before, the pull of panic telling him to run but the mysterious need for exploration of this new place that kept him planted in his seat. It seemed hours before the Doctor arrived before him, smoothing out his suit jacket with one hand.

“Good evening, Jack,” Dr. Lecter stood conspicuously in Will’s line of vision. He kept one hand in his pocket, leaning on one hip slightly, completely aware of being looked at and completely pretending not to care.

“Dr. Lecter,” Jack rose to his feet and stretched out a hand. The doctor removed his from his pocket to shake it, “thank you for coming to see us. Won’t you sit down?”

“My pleasure,” he smiled. Will’s heart was beating uncomfortably fast for someone who hadn’t even crossed the dancefloor yet.

Dr. Lecter sat down across from Will, setting his drink on the table in front of him, “And this is?” He asked once settled, looking at Will. His facial expression was politely curious, but his gaze was boring into Will like a drill, plowing through his veils and facades, seeking after what lay beneath.

“This is Will Graham, the reason I’ve come to ask for your help. Mr. Graham is newly arrived to the city looking for his cousin. I thought someone with your wide social network may have heard something,” Jack answered, indicating Will with a wave of the hand.

Will swallowed and nodded at his own name, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Doctor,” he leaned forward, extending a hand, and refusing to break eye contact though it had been several tense seconds of unmitigated gazing between them. He could tell the well-dressed man across from him was searching for a weak spot, so Will countered by pushing back.

Dr. Lecter took his hand, his grip firm, but not ostentatious. He had no reason to intimidate Will through physical displays, and yet the handshake seemed to last a second longer than a first meeting would necessitate.

“That is a charming accent you have, Mr. Graham. Where are you from?” the doctor still didn’t look away, even though he had dropped Will’s hand to take his drink again.

Surprise crossed Will’s features, Jack had mentioned his cousin was missing but the man hadn’t pressed the issue further. “Louisiana. My family is from Slidell. Have you been down South at all Dr. Lecter?”

“No, haven’t had the chance. I’m new in town myself, in a way,” his lips half-curled, amused at his own joke.

Dr. Lecter finally broke the eye contact as Will started to speak about his cousin and was cut off hastily by Jack, “Like I mentioned earlier, Miss Abigail Hobbs, Will’s younger cousin has gone missing.He’s here to find her and bring her home.”

The doctor swirled his drink, the ice sliding soundlessly against the glass, “Abigail… Abigail…” He brought the tip of his tongue out to just touch the edge of his lips, then returned it to his mouth, “Yes, I think I remember. Young woman, about twenty years of age, short brown hair-”

“Long,” Will interjected.

The doctor glanced at him, “It wasn’t long when I saw it. _Short_ brown hair,” he continued, “blue eyes… she was here once or twice, but I remember little else.” He paused and cocked his head at Jack, considering him critically before smirking, “You didn’t know she’d been here, though. So why did you come all this way to see me, Jack? Not afraid she’s…”

Will bristled and, even though the doctor didn’t look at him, he knew that it was intentional.

Jack cleared his throat uncomfortably, “We don’t know anything like that yet. She’s been missing for about a month, but it’s likely she’s alive and well somewhere. And I’m glad you have seen her, but no, that isn’t why we came. You remember that case I had on the green sardines?”

Dr. Lecter nodded, “Yes, a very unusual case, choosing murder victims by their taste in preserved fish.” He snorted, a twinkle in his eye.

“Well, I remembered how invaluable your observational skills were on that and I was wondering if you might help us with this,” Jack nodded, pausing to take a long, slow drink.

The Doctor looked between them for a moment before spreading his hands, “How could I be of any assistance to you Jack? I have no experience in finding a missing person. Besides which, I have my practice to look after.” His gaze fell to his drink, examining it idly, waiting for the incentive to come.

Will became frustrated, sensing the man was only playing games.“Well, if you don’t think you could be of any assistance I certainly understand.”

Hannibal looked up at Will and his eyes narrowed. Either the man was this easily caught or he wanted Will to believe he was this easy to goad on. Will continued, “I’ve already done much of the legwork with Jack so completing this task on our own shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“And I’m sure your legs have improved from the effort.” Dr. Lecter spoke as if he were making an observation about the weather.

Will arched one eyebrow, the only drastic reaction he would provide to the doctors improper comment. “You have plenty of legs to feast on around here, Doctor. Mine should be none of your concern."

Hannibal paused a moment, inhaling deeply before looking back at Will and answering, "You came all this way after your cousin. Now you're alone and friendless in a big, wide city that can be very unforgiving to strangers. I would like it if you looked at me as a friend." His eyes softened as he looked at Will and there was some sincerity in his voice. Will could already tell this man was a fine actor when it came to persuading others. But something in his eyes told Will this was genuine.

“So now you’re willing to help. What changed your mind?”

Dr. Lecter smiled widely, his first genuine look of pleasure since Will first spotted him. “You did.”

There was something so earnest about the other man’s statement Will wanted to know more about him. He sounded like someone who’d been secluded away from the sunlight who’d finally seen their first dawn in years. Will understood that feeling all too well. Those tittering belles at the southern balls always talked about this feeling and yet he never thought he’d….

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”  A feminine voice with a deep, soothing timber met his ears and he looked up to see Bella standing beside Jack.

“You are never an interruption, Bella. Please, join us.” Hannibal gestured to the chair across from him. Bella inclined her head gracefully and took the indicated chair, but dragged it over next to Jack.

“Bella, I can honestly say I have never been more glad to see you,” Jack wrapped his arm around the beautiful singer with a look of profound relief. With a quick glance at the present company, he bent over her to kiss her hello and Dr. Lecter astutely engaged Will in conversation about something in the opposite direction.

“Have you ever been to a night club such as this before, Mr. Graham?” he asked, looking out at the many splendid dancers.

Will shook his head, following the Doctor’s line of sight, “No. And call me Will, please, everyone does.”

The doctor turned to him, “I am not everyone. But I insist you call me Hannibal in return as no one else does.” His warm gaze lingered on Will for a moment, making sure he felt it, before turning back to the dancers, “You’d be surprised to learn, then, that much of our wares are manufactured down South and are run up river.”

Will raised an eyebrow, “No, I didn’t know that.”

“You should try some of our bourbon, imported from Louisiana. See if it tastes like home,” Hannibal grinned, teeth shining like the jewels on Bella’s dress, “I’ve always wondered if, even after the long hours of distillation, reproduction, refining, and bottling, that there wasn’t just something in the earth that stayed with the liquor. Would you care to indulge me and answer my query?”

Will hesitated.

“Dr. Lecter, don’t tease the poor boy,” Bella interrupted, informing them privacy was no longer needed. They turned back to find Bella flushed and Jack’s tie a little askew.

“Bella, you know I never tease, I only persuade,” Hannibal smiled at her, a thin, polite reproduction of the real thing.

“Then I suppose you’ve been persuading Jack to look confused since he was so bamboozled before I got here,” she quipped. Hannibal nodded, giving her the victory and she turned to Will.

“Hello there, I’m so sorry we haven’t been properly introduced, these two can never remember their manners,” she smiled indulgently even so and extended her hand, “I’m Bella.”

“You sing beautifully, Miss Crawford.”

“Bella,” she supplied helpfully, “just Bella will do. And thank you, it’s not a bad way to make a living.”

Jack smiled at her, beaming with pride, then turned to Will, “She could be singing at the Met. She could have sung in Paris, London, Berlin… but they won’t let her perform the music she loves.”

“It is a pity that the arbiters of taste have no taste of their own,” Hannibal said before taking another sip of his drink.

Bella shook her head, “No… Anyway, I love New York, who would ever want to leave to sing in some fancy opera house? I have a stage, I have a crowd. Give me a mic and the world is mine.” She leaned over to kiss her husband affectionately and Will and Hannibal both turned politely away.

“Excuse me,” Chiyoh stood next to Hannibal.

Hannibal looked up and something in his expression tightened, “Yes, what is it?”

“Hannibal, I need to speak with you…” Chiyoh looked pointedly at Will, “in private.”

Hannibal uncrossed his legs from their relaxed position, but made no other move to get up, “If it can’t wait, Chiyoh-”

“No, it can’t, I…” she dropped her voice and spoke very rapidly almost directly into Hannibal’s ear.

Hannibal kept slowly twisting his drink around in one hand, face tight as she spoke, but he gave no other indication of emotion. He replied quietly, but urgently, just as she did. The shape of his lips around the words indicated they may not have been speaking English at all.

He turned toward her more fully as he made his point. Chiyoh was about to speak again, but he raised his voice and, in English, said, “That will be all, Chiyoh. And, if you would, fetch Mr. Graham a mint julep.” She left, with a sour backwards glance, but she obeyed.

Hannibal turned back to the table, forcing a smile just in time, but not fast enough for Will not to see the crease of worry between his eyebrows, “Where were we?”

“She called you Hannibal,” Will began.

The doctor glanced at him curiously, then understanding clicked. He sighed and scooted closer to Will to explain, “Chiyoh is… an old friend of mine, very old.”

Will had certainly heard that expression before, “Ah.” He looked away, taking a long drink of water and trying not to feel disappointed.

“We grew up together,” Hannibal added, his eyes moving between Will’s comforting glass in his hands and his disheartened face brightening again. His mouth moved towards a smile, but didn’t get beyond an illusion of one.

“Oh, I see, so are you both from… um…” Will frowned, not wanting to insult the Doctor but keenly aware his English, though impeccable, was not spoken on a native tongue.

“Lithuania,” Hannibal nodded and didn’t raise his head for a moment, “But that was many years ago.” When he finished the sentence, the air stopped with an uninviting pause. Will knew better than to say anything more about it.

“Dr. Lecter, Bella has just reminded me that you’re not unmusical yourself,” Jack broke in, turning them back to the table as a whole, “Might we tempt you to give a little impromptu performance?”

Hannibal smiled humbly, “Thank you, but I couldn’t possibly. Would you allow me to interrupt your set Bella?” He looked sheepishly at the beautiful woman, but his eyes were as proud as a hero before a fall.

Bella arched an eyebrow, “Never let it be said that I refused a fellow musician the chance to perform. But I confess I would be a little shocked at your rudeness, Dr. Lecter.” She took the champagne Jack had poured for her and eyed Hannibal dryly as she drank.

The doctor gave a short laugh, “No, I’m sorry Jack. It’s clear Bella would never forgive me,” he smiled warmly at her mischevious husband, “Besides, your jazz troupe doesn’t keep my preferred instrument on hand.”

“What do you play?” Will leaned forward, intrigued.

“Harpsichord,” Hannibal looked at him, pleased, “but it requires much the same skills as piano. I could play accompaniment for you Bella, but your pianist does a fine enough job himself.”

Bella nodded at the backhanded compliment, rolling her eyes as soon as Hannibal’s attention was back on Will.

“Do you enjoy harpsichord music, Will?” Hannibal continued.

Will shook his head, “No, no, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard harpsichord. We had a big pipe organ in the church back home, which is similar isn’t it?”

Hannibal nodded thoughtfully, “Pianos, harpsichords, and organs are all played with keyboards, yes. But the mechanism behind the pressing of the keys and the sounds they produce are all quite different.” He looked up and cocked his head, “You should come visit me sometime. I have my own harpsichord at home, I keep it exquisitely tuned and would be happy to give you a sampling of its sound.”

“Thank you for the invitation Hannibal but I have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment than a social call.”

“Ah, yes, your darling Abigail.” Hannibal trailed off while Chiyoh put a silver cup in front of him. Will recognized the glass from several gathering’s he’d attended with his family. So this was what a julep was served in? Well, some of those upstanding Southern gentlemen apparently weren’t so upstanding after all.

The glass felt uncomfortably cold in Will’s hand as he took a sip. It was an interesting mix of sweet and bitter. He let it linger on his tongue longer than necessary, knowing the Doctor was itching to hear more about his search for Abigail.

“Is it just as you remembered?” Hannibal leaned into him and Will fought the flush he felt coming to his cheeks. The Doctor gestured to the drink in Will's’ hand just in case there was any doubt to what he meant.

“I couldn’t tell you. To be honest, this is the first I’ve ever had. But it’s quite good.”

“I would’ve ordered you something a little more delicate on the palate if I’d have known it was your first time.”

“Okay boys, I’ll leave you be. Time for me to take the stage again.”  Bella got up and planted a quick kiss on Jack’s forehead. Then she turned to Will. “Come to dinner sometime this week, Will. I’d love to talk more when the Doctor isn’t demanding all of your attention.”

Will stood and shook Bella’s hand, feeling slightly embarrassed that his obvious fascination with Hannibal had been found out. “I’d like that.”

“You wound me Bella.” Hannibal mocked an injury to his chest. Bella circled around the table and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Cruel to be kind, Doctor.”

“Hey!” Jack mocked from the other side of the table. Bella laughed, winked at Will, and disappeared into the crowd on the dancefloor.

Will turned back to Hannibal to find the man’s eyes on him. He held the gaze, turning his chin up slightly as he took another long sip from the drink in his hand. The flavor was growing on him. He put the drink down and decided to finally indulge Hannibal.

“Abigail is my cousin, as Jack said before. But she might as well be my sister. Our families are very close and I’m the one who always ended up watching out for her. Which probably would’ve been a little easer if she wasn’t so...rambunctious. She met a guy from New York a few months back, I never met him. Before I knew it Abigail had taken off to New York. I tried to keep in touch but a month ago the letters just stopped. In her past few letters, something seemed off.”

“You’re worried she got mixed up with the wrong crowd?” Hannibal finished his drink and put it on the table.

“I don’t know exactly but I trust my instinct and something isn’t right here. Abigail is smart, much smarter than most girls her age and she can usually get out of any mess she’d stuck herself in but, this time...I don’t know.” Will took another generous sip of his drink. He didn’t need to tell Hannibal it was a bootlegger that Abigail fell in with or that it sounded like she’d started running herself. Will didn’t know who to trust in this city and no matter how good a man in a three piece suit looked, it didn’t speak anything about his integrity.

“Hannibal.” Chiyoh’s voice had an edge to it. Will looked up to see her standing behind him, beckoning for Hannibal to come with her. She said something in another language and Hannibal stood from his seat.

“Excuse me for a moment, Will. I have an urgent matter I need to attend to.” Hannibal walked past him and took Chiyoh by the elbow, pulling her away from the table.

“I’m here too y’know.” Will heard Jack mutter under his breath.

Just then Bella started up again “It Don’t Mean a Thing If It Ain’t Got that Swing,” a clear crowd pleaser that had people pushing past Will’s chair to get on the dancefloor. He tried to make conversation with Jack but the music was just too loud. Instead he opted for finishing his drink while watching the crowd. He looked into his glass and realized the booze must be starting to hit him. A pleasant warmth settled into his chest, bringing a flush to his cheeks. The music and Bella’s smooth voice enveloped him, he would’ve been happy to stay in this chair all night.

“Excuse me.” Will felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see a handsome older gentleman in a grey suite with a finely manicured beard smiling down at him.

“H - hello.” It somehow felt harder to articulate than it had before. Damn alcohol.

“Frederick Chilton,” the man extended his hand, “excuse my presumptiveness but I was wondering if you cared to dance.”

From an early age his mother had pounded into his head he had to dance with any girl who struck up the courage to ask him. It had never mattered which girl asked him to dance, he had never been interested in the fairer sex. But to ask another man to dance at a Southern social was suicide - in more ways than one. Sober Will may have stuttered out a “no thank you” but mint-julep Will was more than happy to take the hand offered to him and follow Fredrick out onto the dancefloor.

“So, you’re new here, aren’t you?” Fredrick was saying as he bobbed along, trying to push further into the center of the ring where the best dancers were.

“Yes… yes, I am,” Will could only return, watching Fredrick’s feet and trying to get an understanding of what the steps were. In a ballroom you always knew what you were supposed to do, but here there seemed to be much more improvisation.

“And has anyone offered to show you around?” he swung around in a way that Will supposed was meant to be dramatic if he had executed it well, “This can be quite a fun town if you have the right… oh, Dr. Lecter.”

Will looked up and nearly bumped straight into Hannibal who was looming over him, eyes fixed on Fredrick.

“Frederick. What a pleasant surprise.” Hannibal said in a flat tone that made Will believe this was neither pleasant or a surprise.

“Yes, very good to see you too, Dr. Lecter, but I was rather in the middle of-” Frederick made to grab Will’s arm.

“Yes, you were in the middle of a rather intriguing variation of the Charleston. I particularly liked that um… twirl you did,” Hannibal imitated him with a lazy finger, “is that catching on?”

Will had to try not to laugh as Frederick turned bright red. Thinking of his mother’s scolding was the only thing that stopped him.

Frederick cleared his throat, “I still don’t see what any business it is of yours, Hannibal. Would you care to join me at my table and we could continue this in private?” He turned pointedly to Will.

“I’m afraid you make it my business when you put your dance partners in danger. You might have taken out Mr. Graham’s eye and then I’d have another of your patients on my hands,” Hannibal’s grin was polite but came across as nothing short of vicious.

“Please, would you allow me to cut in, Will?” Hannibal bowed slightly, completely ignoring Frederick at this point.

“Um…” Will swallowed, glancing awkwardly at Frederick, before accepting Hannibal’s hand. He would have mumbled some kind of apology had Fredrick not stormed off in response to Hannibal’s complete disregard, “Yes, since my previous partner seems to have abandoned me here.” He smiled blithely.

“It’s no great loss,” Hannibal smirked, gently putting an arm around Will’s waist and pressing him into the thick of the dancers, “Frederick lacks for style in all things.” He winked, taking Will’s hand and starting him off on a familiar waltz step with a little more swing in it.

Will had never danced the submissive role before, but Hannibal didn’t make him feel unbalanced, leading him confidently through the sliding beat of the swing jazz. Soon he was smiling and could see that the dancers weren’t improvising at all but simply adjusting the dance steps to swells in the music. There was something so instinctive about it that Will liked.

When he looked up he saw Hannibal looking back at him with a fond expression, smiling, but entirely focused. Will had to look away quickly, surprised at the intensity.

“You pick this up quickly, you must have been a popular dance partner at home,” Hannibal commented, teaching Will a new step by which they slid each other to arms length, holding on by their hands, then came right back into the swing step. It was exhilarating, almost like being pushed on a swing, perhaps that’s why they called it that.

The ingrained sense of modesty spoke for him, “There’s always more women that want to dance than there are male partners so… yes, I suppose I was popular.”

Hannibal made a disapproving sound and Will looked up curiously, “Don’t devalue your own skills like that, Will. That was your family talking. I’m not interested in what your family has to say about you.” He paused, then smiled slowly and Will felt his meaning.

The song ended in an ecstasy of sound and reluctantly they stopped moving, but remained close, touching, as if they’d forgotten what to do with their hands.

“Alright now, this next one’s just for lovers,” Bella was saying into the mic. There was a small groan from the crowd, a few people moving to sit down. Will considered moving away from Hannibal, looked to him for a guide for behavior, but Hannibal’s eyes were on Bella as she began, “I’ll be loving you, always, with a love that's true, always…”

He smiled and his hand suddenly tightened on Will’s, turning to him, “One more dance? Since I had to interrupt you earlier…” His face had a shy hopefulness to it, as if he could say please with eyes and lips alone.

Will swallowed, thinking longingly of the refreshing coolness of that mint julep.

“Please,” Hannibal finally said. Will’s hand closed against Hannibal’s and he nodded. The room was dark and full and Hannibal was a very comfortable dance partner, what harm would it do…

The taller man rewarded him with a wide smile and he pulled Will against his chest, his other hand somehow already around his waist. Will gulped, this was much closer than before, but then the song was much slower, it didn’t have that same beat to it.

This close he could see the details of his beautifully tailored suit; the romantic paisley print of his tie, and the well-turned collar. Will didn’t trust himself to look any higher, conscious of Hannibal’s eyes on him.

“I have to apologize to you, Will,” Hannibal spoke softly, forcing Will to look up at him to hear him better.

“Apologize? For what?”

“For letting you dance with Frederick at all. I meant to ask you myself,” his lips quirked, faintly amused, “I should have said something sooner.”

“Why didn’t you?” Will smiled up at Hannibal. “Cold feet?”

Normally he wouldn’t have known what to say but the drink, the music, and the feeling of Hannibal’s hand on his waist had made him bold. Hannibal seemed a little surprise by Will’s reply, giving him a beautifully vulnerable smile.

“I wouldn’t say that, I never give up on things I want.”

Will flushed and pressed himself closer to whisper in Hannibal’s ear, “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

Hannibal stepped on his foot and mumbled an apology. Will mumbled out a muted “S’kay” against Hannibal's jacket.

“Will, I feel like it would be taking advantage of you to keep you on this floor any longer. That julep seems to have gone to your head.”

A man, a gorgeous man, actually dancing with him. Will never thought this would happen. All his life he figured he’d fall in line and marry a girl who could tolerate his absolute lack of interest in her physically, have a few kids, and….do the same boring thing as everyone else. Finally getting what he never dared to dream for made his heart ache for one more moment.

“Am I making you nervous Hannibal?”

The song had come to an end and the band was tuning up for a quicker beat. Hannibal pulled back and held Will at arm’s length. The band started up again playing a loud jazzy tune. Will held his breath, waiting for Hannibal’s reply. The older man came close again, his lips near Will’s ear.

“This pace is a little fast, I think. I wish to take my time with you Will. Would you care to continue this elsewhere?”

Will’s breath caught in his throat. He looked at Hannibal and bit his lip, considering for a moment. But in the end, there really wasn’t much of a choice.

“Hannibal - ,” Will was interrupted by the flashing of the house lights. He felt Hannibal’s grip on his hand tighten. Suddenly, everyone around them was running to exit the dancefloor.

“Stay close to me, Will.” Hannibal pulled Will in and wrapped an arm around Will’s shoulders and started guiding them both towards the stage, against the flow of the crowd. Hannibal turned around motioning with his free hand and shouted in that same language Will had heard him speak earlier.

“What’s going on?” Will asked as they rounded the edge of the stage and ducked behind a curtain that separated the space for the staff from the dancefloor.

“The local police squad still trying to act like they know what they’re doing I suspect. This way.” Hannibal took them through a old wooden door in at the back of the room, following a few of the performers and some of the waitstaff. They took a sharp turn into the kitchen and Will noticed one of the shelves was pulled away from the wall to reveal a tunnel. They got to the entrance and Hannibal cautioned Will to watch his head. Will got into the dimly lit cramped tunnel and quickly started forward. He’d only gotten a few feet when he felt Hannibal's’ hand wrap around his.

“No need to run Will, this pops out a block away from the club. We need to look cool and collected when we emerge from the bookstore.”

“Bookstore?”  Will noticed the tunnel was curving up again several feet away into an area with more light. It took a few minutes for them to finally reach the end of the tunnel. There was a ladder leading up, Hannibal got ahead of Will and waited beside it, letting Will climb up first.

“Most speakeasies have more than one entrance and exit. They’re necessary in case of circumstances such as these.” Hannibal said as he climbed out after Will in a dark back cellar that was, indeed, stocked with many copies of books.

Hannibal brushed off his jacket and trousers. He scanned Will critically and straightened his sleeves, then frowned at the creases in his pants, “You’ll have to get those ironed properly. Remind me to give you the address of my dry cleaner.”

As more people came out of the tunnel, Hannibal took Will’s arm, pulling him close and shielding him from the worst of the commotion. He leaned in and spoke in a hushed tone as they continued through the shop.

“The owners of Muskrat Farm pay the bookshop owner a small percentage of profits in exchange for this bypass. We are allowed a safe exit and the shop has enough left over for a few nicer odds and ends.” They walked out of the store together, arms linked, moving at a casual pace despite the panicked atmosphere. Will looked around nervously, but Hannibal made sure he was in front of any eyes looking for Will, a serene, pleasant look plastered over his face. It was a very good fabrication, but Will was already too well-acquainted with the intensity of Hannibal’s gaze to believe it for an instant.

“I’m sorry your first experience in a New York club had to be so abruptly ended. It was very rude.”

Will looked up, surprised to hear real contrition in his voice, “Well… it wasn’t too bad,” he grinned, pressing against Hannibal a little more than he intended, his body seemed slightly out of his control right now.

Hannibal’s lips repressed a smile and they came to a halt beneath a streetlamp, not more than a few shops down from the bookstore.

“Why are we-?” Will began, but a car soon pulled up and Hannibal gently nudged him towards it. He opened the back door and gestured for Will to enter.

“You left us out in the cold Chiyoh, was there traffic?” Hannibal asked snidely, sliding into the back after letting Will inside.

“Many people are in a rush to leave, Hannibal. I might have caused a collision if I had rushed too, and then where would you be?” she returned, glaring at them from the rearview mirror.

Hannibal huffed and turned to Will, “Chiyoh works for me as well as the club owners. If you see her around the club, I can assure you, you’re quite safe there.”

Will nodded, focusing mostly on staying upright as they sped through the dark streets. This was very different from driving with Jack, he had been able to look around him and admire the buildings then. Now the night was chilled and lonely and they were moving too fast for Will to accurately get a picture of where they were.

“May I ask where you’re staying?” Hannibal commented, drawing Will’s attention back to him.

“Oh, um, G-Gravois… Gravois and 52nd,” Will nodded after some strain remembering, “It’s just on the corner there.” He pointed aimlessly, trying to indicate said corner.

Hannibal nodded knowingly and addressed Chiyoh sharply, “Take 52nd all the way down.”

Chiyoh said something back that wasn’t in English and added, “I know how to find Gravois.”

For Hannibal’s part, he kept his eyes focused on Will and if he understood what Chiyoh was saying, he didn’t care just at the moment. “Will, before we part ways tonight, there are a few things I’d like to ask you about why you’ve come to New York now in search of Abigail,” he spoke softly, full of concern.

Will’s heart missed a beat at the idea of parting, he knew the night would have to end eventually, but he suddenly found the concreteness of being severed from Hannibal disconcerting. He was a warm, inviting, even protective presence in this new world. And if there was more attraction beyond that, so much the more painful to leave.

Will swallowed and nodded though. He didn’t come all this way to ‘meet people’, after all. “Yes, yes of course,” he said. He straightened up again, with difficulty, the shiny leather seats seemed determined to slide him onto the ground. Hannibal reached out and took his shoulder, steadying him. Will relaxed under his grip and fell a little towards him, wanting to feel his support, almost like when they were dancing. The Doctor didn’t seem to mind, aside from a little intake of breath.

“Why did you come to search for Abigail now?” Hannibal repeated, his thumb stroking Will’s shoulder as he leaned against his side.

“She was writing to me while she was here. I told her to tell me how she was doing, I wanted to make sure she was alright. Not that she had any reason not to be just... you know,” Will sighed, rubbing his face, his accent thickening with exhaustion, “And then she just stopped… all suddenly. I wanted to come after her right away, but the family didn’t think anything was wrong. She could be secretive, and headstrong too. But not with me, she trusted me. Finally everyone was worried enough to send me along with the funds necessary to hire a detective.”

“Mmm,” Hannibal sighed thoughtfully, “And how did you come to find Jack then?”

Will shrugged, “The police have their hands full, another missing person case doesn’t worry them too much. They can put out descriptions, but that’s about it. I wanted a more… motivated effort than that.” Will smiled wryly and glanced at Hannibal, hoping he’d be amused too.

He was and, the better to see Will’s face, Hannibal slid his arm around both Will’s shoulders, letting Will nestle against him, if he so wanted.

Before Hannibal could ask his next question though, Chiyoh blew on the horn at the car in front of her, causing them both to jump a little. Hannibal and Chiyoh exchanged a very frank conversation through the mirror, but said nothing.

“You describe Abigail, with some reluctance, as secretive and headstrong. Are you worried that these qualities may have lead to her disappearance?” Hannibal frowned at him curiously.

“Yes… no, I don’t know. It… it’s possible. We just don’t know enough right now,” Will exhaled deeply, disheartened.

“I did not mean to distress you.” The older man reached out and gently rested his hand on Will’s. Will did not draw back, but felt comfort from the touch. Tentatively, Hannibal’s fingers curled around Will’s, almost lacing them together, “I assure you, I-”

“We’re here,” Chiyoh interrupted, her voice rough and coarse for the first time Will heard it all night.

Hannibal sighed, reluctantly, “I’ll walk you to your door.” Will could feel Hannibal beginning to withdraw and instinctively held his hand tighter. Hannibal glanced down at the clasp and slowly smiled. Will could just see something shining in his eyes, but couldn’t quite make out what it was.

Not letting their hands break, Hannibal opened the door and pulled Will out after him, breaking from the more courteous tradition of walking around to the other side to let him out. But in this, Hannibal let Will be his guide, and in truth, had no real objections to staying in physical contact with Will a little longer. Will let Hannibal guide him up the stairs leading to the large french doors of his apartment. They stood on the top step, looking at each other under the yellow hue of the entryway light.

“This seems awfully big for just one person.” Hannibal hadn't let go of Will's’ hand just yet.

“I’m hoping there will be two of us, soon.”

“Will,” Hannibal took both of Will’s hands in his, making Will face him. “I will help reunite you with Abigail if you promise me one thing.”

Will took a cautious step forward, drawn in by the intensity of Hannibal's gaze. “What?”

“Promise you won’t run back to Louisiana as soon as you find her.” One of Hannibal’s thumbs rubbed light circles into Will’s skin.

Will didn’t know if it was the bourbon or the dim light of the city at night but everything seemed to have a romantic glow about it. He pulled one hand out of Hannibal’s grasp and put it on top of their remaining linked hands. “I promise.”

Hannibal stepped closer, licking his lips. “Will…”

The deep burst of a car horn erupted into the quiet of the night. Hannibal’s head snapped towards the car, a scowl covering his face for just a moment before turning back to Will. He took one step down, still keeping Will’s hands in his.

“Mr. Graham, I hope to see you again very soon.” Hannibal brought Will’s right hand to his lips and kissed it. Will’s knees nearly buckled. Hannibal let go of Will’s hand and started to slowly walk backward down the steps, his eyes still focused on Will.

“You will, I recall you promising me another dance.”

Hannibal smiled up at him from the sidewalk. “I always keep my promises. Goodnight Will.”

“Goodnight Hannibal.”

Hannibal got into his car and Chiyoh drove away with a little more speed than Will thought was necessary.

#

“Were you waiting to be invited in or were you just stand there looking at each other until the sun came up?” Chiyoh muttered.

Hannibal ignored her, looking wistfully out the window, “There was only a remote chance of any impropriety, Chiyoh. Will is a well-bred Southern boy, he wouldn’t allow himself to be overcome in one night. He’s quite charming in how he rebels against that training through, as an unbroken dogs fights the leash.”

He’d heard that Jack had taken on a client who’d been asking about Abigail. It would be only a matter of time before they ended up in the club asking him questions. But he didn’t anticipate the beautiful enigma that was Will Graham.  He hadn’t expected to feel such instant attraction and then, for once, not to be disappointed by the return. Will took his interest and held it, returned it, then invited it again. This was a sensation Hannibal had never experienced before and he wanted more of it, much more. He feared he might never be satisfied.

But Will’s search for his lost little lamb was also coming at a most inopportune moment. He had meant what he’d said, he’d help Will reunite with Abigail. But he could take his time with that. There were more pressing matters that came before idealistic runaways and their handsome, steadfast cousins.


End file.
